


not one for the history books

by Team_Free_Tardis_Deduction



Series: Civil War: What Is, What Was, What Could Have Been... [1]
Category: Captain America, Captain America (Movies), MCU, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stucky - Fandom
Genre: "fixed", AU, Alternate - Freeform, Alternate Scene, Angst, Bucky Barnes - Freeform, CACW, CACW spoilers, Captain America Civil War - Freeform, Civil War, Emotional, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, James Buchanan Barnes - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Spoilers, What Could Have Been, canon AU, cap 3, gay ships are yay ships, here I go again with the dumb tags and crappy re-writing of a scene, how the heck do i tag this???, kiss, otp, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6725710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Free_Tardis_Deduction/pseuds/Team_Free_Tardis_Deduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-write of that kiss that totally no one guessed ft. two old men kissing, sass-master and a squeaky Volkswagen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	not one for the history books

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Staron shippers,
> 
> It's almost impossible to sound sincere when you're writing on the internet- but please believe me, there is no sarcasm.  
> I am so, /so/ sorry for tagging this as Staron. It was a mistake and I apologise. I've received a few comments and messages relating to the incorrect tagging, and the tag has been removed.  
> I really am sorry. And I really am happy for you; if it were the opposite- I wouldn't want bitter Staron shippers trashing my OTP.  
> Please, if you haven't already, check out other comments and replies. I do read EVERYTHING, and I have tried my best to explain and apologise.
> 
> Just a quick thing- and I really mean no offense...  
> If you come across another Stucky fic, or similar, incorrectly tagged with Sharon/Staron- PLEASE try to be a little kinder. Politely ask them to remove the tag; if they're a good person, they'll do it, no hard feelings.  
> Spiteful comments may make you feel good, but it makes the writer feel AWFUL, and there's really no need.  
> It's not something you want to wake up to.  
> I thank all those who left nice messages- I'm sure any fic writer will tell you that an encouraging comment makes their day- THEIR WEEK- 110% better. It really encourages writers to continue their work when people show interest and appreciation.
> 
> Again, to Staron shippers, I am so sorry. I hope we can forgive and move forward, and all learn to work in harmony.
> 
> Best wishes
> 
> ~ Author

_Steve'd never had a good taste in cars_. Bucky thought bitterly, shifting uncomfortably, even the slightest change in posture causing the entire goddamn car to bounce from side to side, squeaking with rust and a too-tight suspension. He figured he couldn't really blame the guy. Growing up, the closest they ever came to a car was the rundown old pick-ups and worn little coupes that spluttered big clouds of blackened fumes every time their engine were run, so weathered they were more corroded shells with wheels than actual running automobiles. Still, he'd had his chance, there really was no excuse for the mid-60's steel blue helltrap of a Volkswagen beetle.

Steve was saying something- Bucky thought he might lip-read, just for the hell of it. The girl was pretty; blonde, thin, with a sweet face and quick smile. Her only blemish was her hawk-nose, which didn't seem to fit the delicacy of the rest of her. Still, it wasn't much of a fault. She was very pretty.

Bucky craned his neck uncomfortably, trying to transition his weight smoothly so the car wouldn't wobble. He peered over Sam's head, but couldn't quite see Steve's lips. He tried ducking to peek over Sam's shoulders, but the guy was smack-bam in the worst possible spot for Bucky's inquisitive observation. He wasn't _spying_ on Steve- he was just... Learning. Keeping a sharp eye out, making sure he wasn't missing anything.

"Can you move your seat up?" He tried. He had a bad feeling the sass-master wasn't going to comply.

There was a pause.

"No." Sam replied flatly, not even looking back at him. Bucky huffed and shifted, not being too careful this time.

He moved just in time to catch Steve stepping forward into the girl's space, his hands coming up to cup her thin neck, ducking to capture her lips.

Bucky's blood ran cold. And he meant cold- the guy'd spent half his unnatural life in a freezer, he knew cold when he felt it. This was like ice in his veins.  
He felt the familiar spike of jealousy, and a betraying wave of pride; a pinch of anger and a flicker of joy. So many mixed emotions, too many. He was happy, he thought, for Steve. Proud of him.   
He was jealous, he thought, of the girl. Envious of her.  
His thoughts ran together like multicoloured inks, mixing into that ugly, nondescript murky grey. Maybe he was wrong about his memories of Steve. Maybe he wasn't all there, yet. Maybe he was imagining- how was he to know the difference?

Steve pulled away and smiled at the girl, his eyes twinkling, a slight blush to his cheeks. He said something, she replied. They glanced over at the car.

Sam nodded, approvingly. Bucky almost expected him to give Steve a thumbs up. 

Bucky didn't know what to do. He sat numbly and conjured up the most encouraging- if not half-assed- smile he could. It didn't quite reach his eyes. He hoped Steve hadn't noticed.

* * *

Steve was wiping the car down, methodically scrubbing every inch, each surface, with his cloth. Bucky leant against the far wall of the undercover carpark, watching him.

"You just gonna stand there, Buck, or you gonna lend a hand?" Steve didn't look at him, but his tone was cheery and Bucky could imagine the friendly smile on his lips. Steve's accent had slipped slightly, he was reverting back to the familiar Greatest Gen Brooklyn twang- but only around Bucky. He found it odd, seeing as Bucky himself was a mix of modern accents- mainly his dull universal American drawl, but a hint of Russian rolled off his tongue at times.

"I thought I might just stand here."

Steve huffed out a laugh. "You haven't lost any of your humour." He shook his head. "Thank god."

"Steve?" Bucky didn't smile.

Steve glanced at him over his shoulder, his expression turning sombre. "Yeah?"

"Who was she?"

Something changed in Steve's eyes. He didn't exactly sigh, but he might as well have. He dropped the cloth onto the hood of the car and leant against a neighbouring pillar, ankles and arms crossing. "Why?"

"Curiosity." Bucky squinted at him, reading him. He twisted his face into a suggestive eyebrow-raise and smirk. "You seemed... Close." And god, he was convincing, too.

"Sharon." Steve said, monotonous. He stared at Bucky, as if he was sizing him up in the same way, watching him. "Carter."

"Carter? As in, _Peggy_?"

Steve nodded, slowly.

"Oh..." And Bucky wasn't quite sure what to say.

"She's a nice girl."

"I bet."

Steve sighed for real this time, tipping his head back before snapping it down and fixing Bucky with a sharp look that made his gut twist and his blood boil. "Is there a problem, Buck?"

"No," Bucky said, too quickly. He took a breath, opened his mouth, and changed his mind. "Yes."

"What?"

"What about Peggy?"

Steve frowned. "Bucky, Peggy's..." He shuddered a little, closing his eyes. "Gone."

Right, right. Bucky knew. Steve'd told him.

"What's the relation?"

"Peggy was her aunt."

Bucky nodded, swallowed thickly. "I'm not gonna get the hang of this."

"You will. It just takes a little getting used to." Steve offered him a reassuring smile, the kind your therapist gives you, or your doctor. 

"She's very pretty."

Steve laughed, his eyes sliding away. "Yeah."

"Not your type, though." Bucky pointed out matter-of-factly.

Steve looked taken aback. "What?"

"You- you never had a whole lotta luck with blondes." Bucky's brow furrowed. Remembering didn't exactly hurt, but is was uncomfortable. Like pulling teeth. "You liked 'em, I think, but you weren't... Peggy was brunette. She was tough as nails and soft as silk, and the kind of pretty that doesn't need boasting. She was curvy, too. You always went for that sort of thing, you sleaze." Bucky laughed, but it sounded more like a strangled cough. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Steve, I shouldn't have. I have no right. I think it's just... Gals are different these days. But I guess you are, too..." He felt too uncomfortable to bear, turning away and retreating down the ramp of the empty lot.

"Buck-" Steve called out after him.

"No, no, I'm sorry. It's fine. It's good. I'm... Happy for you. Good goin', punk."

A hand touched Bucky's flesh arm and he jumped a little- how did Steve even _move_ that fast? "Buck."

Bucky halted. Steve tugged at his hand until he turned around, abashed and avoiding Steve's gaze. He'd been so wrong- why'd he even open his mouth? His memories were a mess, and he had no right.

"Bucky," Steve said softly, a finger tucking under Bucky's chin and gently lifting until he met his eyes. Steve ducked his head, his lips brushing over Bucky's, but not pressing. He hung there; waited. Bucky stood frozen, heart hammering like a rabbits, trembling a little.

"Okay." Steve said quietly, carefully, the words brushed onto his lips. He began to pull away and that seemed to stir something in Barnes. He threw his hand out, cupping the back of Steve's head and pulling him back in, almost smashing their mouths together. It wasn't particularly pleasant- sort of desperate, mostly teeth. Steve made a little noise in the back of his throat when Bucky nipped at his lower lip.   
Whatever monstrosity Bucky had caged up inside him reared it's ugly head and he pushed, shoving Steve up against a cement pillar and kissing him harder, if possible, their lips breaking apart with soft wet sounds only to be cut off by more kisses. It was needy, hungry, but not in a sexualised way. Bucky kissed Steve like he was a starving animal, ravishing his mouth, kissing away every hint of anyone else.  
Steve let him. He fisted his hands in Bucky's unshorn hair, grazed them over his shoulders, dancing over the cool metal of his left prosthetic. He made small noises and uttered things that were nonsensical- just air, really.

When they finally broke apart they were panting and dishevelled. Steve's eyes were blown wide, the impossible black of his pupil nearly swallowing his pale irises; his lips were pinker than before, defying all odds, and plump and wet.

Bucky gripped at his forearms, not daring to let go. If Steve wanted to shove him away, he could, then he'd know it was just another fantasy in his head; another mistake.

Steve gaped at him.  
"I..."

Bucky's heart crushed to dust. "I'm sorry," He began. "I'm so-"

"No, no," Steve stepped forward and cupped his cheek with his large, calloused hand; somehow soft despite the battle-hardened blemishes. "I started it. I-" He swallowed. "I like Sharon. I do. She's a great gal, and there's so much of her aunt in her. And maybe... But it wasn't like that. It wasn't like," He gestured between them. "Us."

"Us." Bucky echoed.

"Oh, Buck." Steve smiled endearingly. 

Bucky stared at his lips. "So, we're-" He couldn't quite form words.

"Yeah, jerk." Steve pressed another small kiss to the corner of his mouth. "'Course."

"They did not put this in the history books." Bucky muttered, still unable to comprehend the situation at hand.

"Well, Buck," Steve said, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tucking his face into his jacket. "Some things the world just don't needa know."


End file.
